Midnight Mask
by The Black Joker
Summary: What do you think about her—when you see her? Hear her? Are you bothered with her existence? Or is she just in the background, laughing away to prove that she's still alive. Sometimes we keep our masks on all day and never take them off. But she throws her mask on her bed at midnight.


A figure took the black jacket off the holder and inserted both of her hands on each sleeve; later zipped it up to its limit, and swung the hoodie over her head. Then a hand took hold of the knob and gently, without making a sound, turned it to the left. It made little sound, and satisfied, she exited the Gallows Mansion.

She was simply going for a walk. How long was the walk? As long as it needed to be…this was the only time she could allow herself to start her questioning, without any interruptions…and in complete silence...

Everyone knows who Patricia "Patty" Thompson is. Of course. She's one of Death the Kid's demon twin guns. They're also aware of her simply personality. She's hyperactive, energetic, and treats the world—and whatever it throws at her—as a game. She's never serious, and…is quite often perceived as stupid, never giving a damn of what happens.

…Is that true though? Is that all there is to this individual? Is Patricia Thompson really that simple…like a children's puzzle? Can this young female be really that whimsical, that flamboyant, without having another side to the story?

Patty took these late night walks, as her "free time". It helped her get fresh air, and a chance to pour out her feelings in her head. All of her surreal feelings that would never be heard—never be known to her friends, or the world.

She started spewing out her thoughts:

_Another boring day. The same thing always drags on. The people around me are always so predictable. Sis will always be afraid of the paranormal, Kid will always be obsessed with symmetry and throw fits on it, Black Star will always have a humongous ego, Tsubaki will always be kind and gentle, Soul will always be coolheaded, and Maka will always be civilized. And what will I be? What I am meant to keep being. Patty: the girl who laughs at every single thing…the girl who giggles and cheers at everything that occurs, and treats life like a game._

_I honestly wish I could drop this mask. This mask that I put on, ever since I was a child, and Mother began to slowly forsake her daughters….For my sister's sake, I had to act like it was all going to be fine. I had to act this way…just to comfort her, and make her feel all better. Even though she's supposed to be the oldest, she _is _still a coward at heart._

_But sadly, this mask cannot be thrown away. Everyone expects me to be the same; they expect a carefree soul to be with Kid and Sis._

_This wouldn't be happening, if I would have just dropped that mask the day we met Death the Kid, and joined him. Right then and there I was establishing my psychotic-street behavior: a cruel and despicable psychosis that was not faked. And right then and there, when we slowly began to lose our street demeanor, I decided to keep the mask…I regret that day. I still do. And I always will. _

_I wish I could go back in time, and take it back._

_There is no real point to my behavior. Because of it, nobody takes me seriously, if anyone would like to have a conversation with me, they'd have to put up with, "Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! You're so stupid~!" That's why most of the students avoid me…some are even _scared _of me. You see? What do I gain from this? My sister doesn't need this Patty anymore, and I honestly want to act like _myself.

_But it's not that simple. Not only will it be as a surprise (and raise unheard questions), but it is almost impossible and pointless. I've been keeping and acting with this personality, almost my whole life, and all that does is make me wonder who I was before I became…_this.

_What was my personality like? _

_Sadly, I took up this mask at a very young age—still in the one-digit—so I have no idea what type of person I could be. This is why I am having these late-night walks around Death City. It helps fresh out my mind, and allows me an hour (or more…I don't keep time) to try and establish what my personality could've been like. But if I only get an hour to connect with my thoughts, and I have to continue to act this way for a whole _day…_it is sorta difficult to keep up. This is why I need a day off._

She stopped walking and sighed. By now, she was in one of the upper cobbled streets of Death City. Patty looked back and rose up her head. The grinning moon seemed to be mocking her…laughing at her from above…laughing at her dilemma.

Patty returned her head to the front, and starting walking again. Only to be stopped by a few burly looking men.

"Hey girlie," the man in the center taunted, "why ya so alone? A pretty girl like you shouldn't be on the streets alone at night."

He looked up at her with a wicked smile splattered on his face.

Patty's faced stayed shadowed by her hoodie. She didn't want to bother with these men, she knew what they wanted, and the outcome was already predictable.

"Hey girl, did you hear me?! Are ya deaf?!"

"Move outta the way ya bastards!" Patty addressed the men in the same way she had addressed all of her former Brooklyn citizens.

The men were startled by the young girl's disturbing courtesy.

But the man in the middle, (assuming by his confident cough and the fact that the men around him shook off their confusion when he did so), the boss, simply chuckled, "Well, well, it seems like little missy here has some fire…I like that."

The men around him laughed with agreement. Some were impatient, their feet rattling and waiting for orders.

As the boss took three confident steps toward Patty, the young blonde dashed forward, and—in a matter of seconds—the men were all piled on top of each other, creating a mountain of different colored nightwear.

Patty laughed her cheery laugh, as she left the men to suffer with their broken ribs. The garbage truck would surely pick them up in a few hours.

The cloaked shadow was now almost near the DWMA. It motionlessly and gloomily stood on top of its platform. As Patty looked up at the school with dull, emotionless eyes, she wondered how her day would be like tomorrow. Her heart gave a sudden pang, a beat of misery. What would her day be like? As predictable as the others! _Maybe I'll get lucky, _she thought as she walked away, now heading downward, back to the Gallows Mansion and into her comfy bed, _maybe tomorrow, Kid will have a day-off, or I could slip out and…_

Who was she kidding? Patty was never seen without her sister or Kid. It was almost as if she were their shadow. A shadow…it is a part of someone's identity, and it is something that's barely given attention to, something that's not given recognition.

There surely must be a way right? There must be a way for Patricia Thompson to take control of her life—it isn't too late, she could still manipulate her shadow, she could still remove the lonely shadow from the ground and stitch it to another individual—one that will be more promising than this puppet.

Would there be someone to help her? Maybe if she told her sister…

Patty shook her head, a simple gesture that should not be done when you're alone. Who knew what would happen if she told her sister. Would her sister accept her and help? Or would she simply stare, wide-eyed, wondering what happened to her cheery, optimistic sister who was quirky and random at times? Would she wonder who this short haired blonde with rosy cheeks was? Would she wonder where her sister was and who this imposter was supposed to be?

Patty's stomach twisted into knots, not settling well with the subject of her only family staring at her with disbelief and fear.

But if she told someone else, and her sister found out…Would Liz be mad? Would their relationship shake and crumble, leaving nothing but dust on the marble floor?

She stopped walking. The silence was loud. It was as if Death City was actually dead. No one was alive; no hearts were pounding peacefully, no lungs were expanding and contracting with every breath, no blood was coursing rapidly through their veins…

Patty's heart was thudding slowly. How long could she keep this façade? How long would it be before the mask fell and shattered? How long would it be before…she lost it?

These night sessions are like a double-edged sword. Patty gets time to herself, to walk around and think—not to mention get exercise. But at the same time, all she was doing was reminding herself, every bitter night, of the Hell that she may never escape.

If she climbed to the top, fingers bleeding, feet sore, rapid breathing, would there be a light? Would there be a hole filled with white light—the promise of a new life? What if there wasn't? What if it never ended?

The truth: she is afraid to move from her spot. She refused to find a way to remove her glued shoes from the floor. After all, maybe the hole would never appear…maybe Hell would just continue, and she'd be climbing forever until she dies.

A small droplet hit the floor. No, it wasn't raining. Patricia's eyes were glassy. She clenched her teeth and bent down, holding in her small cry. As she shut her eyes, more tears decided to fall to the ground. But no one would notice these tears, now would they? These tears will only be kept cold tonight, but tomorrow, when the sun is sure to come, they'll simply evaporate. People might step on them on their way to work. It won't cross their mind that someone was suffering tonight.

Patty was there with Death the Kid and Liz, in their fight with Crona. And what had he said…?

What was it?

Oh yes.

Patty slightly opened her eyes.

Five small circles were on the ground.

And his voice echoed:

"_Do you know where Hell is? _

Her hands pressed on her knees, helping her get up. With one black sleeve she wiped her face aggressively.

_Inside your head."_

"Well!" The painful toxic voice had returned, filled with unwanted happiness. "I guess it's time to go home! Wouldn't want Sis to check up on me and realize I'm not there!"

Her smile was wide and her teeth showed. Eyes closed, mood erased, she punched the air and yelled out, "I'm going home, ya bastards!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh hi there! Did you enjoy this little thing I wrote? Do you wonder _why _I wrote it? I'll tell you anyways.

I didn't really care much about Patty (or Patti; however you want to spell it). She was just…there. And I can't be the only one who's thought of her just in the background. To fanfiction writers she's probably the most easy to write about. Just have her say something funny or random, or both.

But then I came across her wikia page (you know, Soul Eater wiki). I read about her personality and then I spotted something. Apparently there's a manga chapter where Patty breaks her character. So, I decided to check it out. I read the part where she _snaps _at her sister for being a coward. Wow.

Bravo Patty! I knew you could be a little demented at times, but who would've thought that you could brutally call your sister a coward.

I sure didn't.

You see, this is why the manga is also worth a read. Especially with Black Star…How _he _changes. O.o

But this isn't about Black Star.

Anyway, so I started seeing Patty in a whole new light. I started wondering if she had another side to her. And—BAM! The mask idea decided to spawn in my head. In this case, I added a little background to what could have possibly made her just act all cheerful all the time.

I dunno :/

Let me know what _you _think of Patty! If you want to, that is.

Well, bye!


End file.
